Probably he would never understand how much that little room, where so many things had happened, had come to mean to me.
“The nursery is all ready,” I continued, following my own train of thought; “and a nurse is living with us who not only will never leave, but fairly begs that we give her something to rock to sleep.”
My husband smiled, and put his hand over mine as we lingered there in our doorway, in the starlight.
Our intimate conversation was interrupted by Caleb Snow and Judge Bell, who came back tired and discouraged from the chase on which I had sent them. Will Dove had dropped off at his own house on the way back from the woods, and Alf had been obliged to give up the hunt long ago and go back to the Sailor’s Rest for supper.
“So it was Mattie!” said the judge, trying to cover his disappointment. “I thought so all the time.”
“Yes, you did!” The Winkle-Man waxed indignant. “You didn’t know no more who it was than the rest of us.”
“Didn’t I keep telling Will Dove not to fire that gun off in the woods?”
“Sure! You says that he couldn’t hit nothin’ with nothin’; that’s what you says!”
“Well, I meant that it was either Mattie or her ghost.”